


Visions

by littlemasterphantomhive



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Logyn - Freeform, Lost Love, possible series?, what say you guys?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 06:08:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14013870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemasterphantomhive/pseuds/littlemasterphantomhive
Summary: She was a lovely vision, the most palatable sight. She was the thing he wanted the most, and he could not have her anymore. But he was going to enjoy every moment of this encounter, and never let the memory go.03/22/2018:Light edits were made, enjoy a much easier on the eyes version, lol.





	Visions

He felt like he was in a dream.

Loki had remembered drinking, but he wasn’t sure how much, but it was apparently enough for him to begin to see the most stunning vision before him.  
It was a vision of his wife, dressed in the most alluring dress. Gold and green sashes covering her arms, a thin and see-through high collar hugged her neck, her upper back bare. The gown was slim fitting, slim enough to show her curves with a considerate amount of fabric being left. Then her golden hair, it had been dotted with pearls, and a small headdress, chain links with elegant wisps of fine golden cords, which vaguely reminded him of a similar one she had worn on their wedding day. Gold and brass links, interlaced to crown her head in the most elegant fashion.

His eyes followed every curve, every gentle movement, and he couldn’t hide the smugness that radiated from him. She was a true form of beauty, the most loyal companion he had ever hoped for.

 _ _She is the most lovely vision, she would have made a fine Queen, just as I always thought she would.__  His mind thought, rather smugly. He would have worshiped her every day, claimed her as her Queen if only she was truly there.

She had always been the picture of devotion. She had been someone he had always wanted, but now she was gone.

Loki knew it had to be a vision, it had to be, his wife was no longer here. She had thrown herself over the Bifrost shortly after his first attempt at ruling over Asgard. His mother had said she could not stand being without him, how she mourned him in such a way it was impossible for her to continue. She had stayed in their rooms, pressing her forehead against his stately helmet, and speaking to it, almost expecting it to speak back to her. Draped in his cloaks whenever his mother would enter, and then crying into her mother-in-law's dress, begging her to make the pain stop, to help her bring him back. She had even gone to Odin, begging to be able to search for her husband, but at every advance, every time she asked, he would always tell her no.

When Loki had learned this news, he had been numb to it at first, calling her weak, a whimpering child, or a quim that he was never able to deal with, and had even said he was happy he was no longer burdened with her. And at such accusations, Frigga had been a loss of words, and simply told him thus;

__“She loved you, no one else but you. She did this because she could not see past her love for you, and you dare insult her? Do you not love her anymore either?”_ _

He had not answered her at that, and so Frigga left him with that. She had left him with the thought of the golden-haired goddess. This was one of the last times he was able to see her in person. Shortly after that, days after that, it actually hit him. The grief, the wanting to her hear hums of old songs of Vanaheim and Asgard. He would have dreams where he would watch her throw herself off the bridge, the need to touch her, and he had a sudden want to join her. He dreamed of her every night, waking up to a cold and empty bed. In some of his dreams, he did see himself kill her, by throwing her off of the bridge himself. She never screamed at him, but only smiled at him with tears in her eyes, mouthing the very words he longed to hear.

_Do you know how much I love you?_

But, in his slightly drunken state, Loki gave in to whatever dream, or vision this may be, and he called to her. He savored the sound of him calling her name, in such a tone that it made the vision of his wife stand still in the crowd of the dancing patrons of the party. Her name rolled off the tongue, it was like a bliss he had not been able to have for years, feeling himself say it, even hearing it come from his lips.

After that call, he began to move past the other guests and came to stand behind her, whispering her name in her ear.

_“Sigyn.”_

It tasted almost sweet when he said it, and he was not disappointed with her reaction either. She had turned haltingly toward him, after feeling his hand glide up her arm, and when she caught sight of him, it made his heart flutter. Those once bright hazel eyes were staring wide-eyed at him, slightly darkened from whatever she had been through. He wondered why his own vision would show him her sadness, but he paid it no mind for the moment.

He saw her chest heave as if she was having a hard time breathing as he smiled at her, and he felt her hands try to gently touch his, only to flinch back once she noticed he was solid.  
She tried to speak, but she couldn’t, especially when he would just say her name. He called her by the only name that he knew the vision by, and once that name left his lips, she trembled.

“You always looked lovely in these colors, my love.” He whispered, offering his hand to her, and was amazed at how quickly she grabbed it. Her grip was strained, and her chest heaved again. She looked like she was about to cry, and he would have none of that. He did not want a vision of his wife, his own vision of her, to be crying.

He began to escort her away, now completely convinced that this would be the best vision or dream, that he would ever have of her. She felt so real from just that simple touch, she looked so real to him. He wondered how much he actually drank to be able to see this and feel this. She seemed mystified, trailing her eyes over him, trying to see any flaw in her own sight.

“Shall we dance?”

They had danced, and after a few moments of doing it, he pressed his forehead against hers, and she began to cry and stroke one of his cheeks with a very shaky hand. He briefly wondered if she was truly real because he was even able to breathe in her scent. Something rather floral, and yet almost like the ocean, how was he able to have such a wonderful sense of smell in a vision such as this?

But it wasn’t until he wiped one of the tears from her cheeks, that he heard her speak so softly.

_“Are you real?”_

And with a gentle kiss on her forehead and a shudder from her, he said softly. 

_"I am as real as the love I feel for you, my love."_

**Author's Note:**

> So, what do you guys think? Should I continue this, and make it into a fic? I want your opinions.


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